Gift of Gold

thin aluminum dagger out of its sheath and inserted the tip between the door and its frame. He had heard that a credit card worked well on this kind of simple household lock but he hadn’t carried plastic for nearly five years.
    The dagger point did the job just fine. The lock gave way and the knob turned in Jonas’s palm. He slid the fake weapon back into its sheath and stepped into the darkened room.
    Something moved in the shadows and Jonas froze. A small pocket light switched on and he automatically looked away from it, trying not to let himself be temporarily blinded by it. The light revealed a gun locked in a beefy fist. It was pointed at him.
    “Hold it right there. One move and I’ll blow you away. There’s a silencer on this. No one downstairs will hear a thing.”
    Jonas surveyed the dark, solid shape in front of him. He couldn’t make out the features, only a general impression of size and strength behind the glare of the small flashlight, The hick accent was grating on the ears but there was no doubt the gun was rock steady. The man seemed quite comfortable with it.
    “Are you up here to deliver an opinion on modern art or are you just lost?” Jonas asked.
    “Shut up. Throw down that knife. Now.”
    For an instant Jonas thought the man had guessed about the real blade that hung beneath his cloak. Then he realized with a vast sense of relief that the man was referring to the aluminum dagger. Here in the darkness the thing looked amazingly real. Obediently Jonas removed the fake and tossed it aside.
    “Don’t move.” The gunman put the flashlight down on a nearby table, making certain it continued to illuminate Jonas. He reached for an object that hung at his hip and flicked a small switch. Then he released it. “All right, let’s go.” He picked up the flashlight again and motioned toward the door with the gun.
    “Go where?”
    “Outside. I just alerted Kincaid. He’ll be along in a few minutes. We’ll wait for him at the back of the house.”
    “Kincaid’s carrying a pager?”
    “You got it. Now move.”
    Jonas weighed the odds and decided to take a realistic view. There was no way he could get the knife out of its sheath before the gunman pulled the trigger. He turned slowly toward the door.
    “What about the painting?” he asked deliberately. If the man hadn’t accomplished what he’d been sent up here to accomplish, finishing the job might provide a distraction.
    “Forget the painting. I’ll take care of it later.”
    Jonas glanced at the wall where
Bloodlust
stood. In the weak glare of the flashlight he could see that the painting was still draped in a white sheet. The intruder must have only recently arrived.
    Jonas and the man behind him made their way slowly down the back stairs. Jonas indulged a few useless fantasies of accidentally encountering another guest or two who might have slipped away from the salon to search for a bathroom, but that proved futile. This part of the house was deadly quiet.
    The gunman knew where he was going. He guided Jonas unerringly out the back door of the house. As they moved outside, Jonas got a clear view of the ski mask that shielded the man’s features. They stood on the steps under the porch roof and waited.
    It had been raining on and off for the past couple of hours but now the drizzle had turned into a steady downpour. The noise of it was a steady hum above the distant sound of the surf.
    Kincaid appeared almost immediately. He stepped through the back door and eyed Jonas with cool satisfaction.
    “So you got him, Tresslar.” he said to the man with the gun. “Excellent. That proved simple enough and it takes care of the main problem.”
    Jonas shook his head. “Your problems are just beginning, Kincaid.”
    “No, my friend. They are nearly over. I would like to know a little more about you and where you fit in to this, but I’m afraid I can’t risk taking the time to interrogate you. I don’t want anyone realizing I’ve left the party. Don’t worry, though. I will question the little redhead instead. I’m sure she’ll be able to tell me a great deal about you.”
    Jonas fought down the cold rage that threatened to swamp him. “Verity knows nothing about any of this.”
    Kincaid’s mouth curved faintly and his eyes glittered with an unnatural excitement. “We shall see. One thing is certain, I shall enjoy getting her to tell me what she does know. The experience should prove interesting. There’s a certain sense of